


The Journey And The Destination

by WhatHaveIDoneNow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Anal, Anal Fisting, Body Modification, Bondage, Breeding, Cock & Ball Torture, Consensual, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Fisting, Gangbang, M/M, Multi, Object Insertion, Slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2019-08-19 23:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16544180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatHaveIDoneNow/pseuds/WhatHaveIDoneNow
Summary: Harry Potter is in an illicit (and oh so kinky) relationship with Lord Riddle. Lord Riddle invites him for a visit to his estate and sends his footmen to pick Harry up from London. This is a tale of their very pleasurable journey, as well as what happens when Harry reaches his destination.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So.... this is the second time I sat down to write smut in my life, and this is what came out. If this isn't someone's cup of tea, I absolutely understand. Unbetaed, my apologies for any mistakes.

Harry received the letter just this morning. His twenty first birthday was only a day away and he had been waiting for, praying for, an invitation. The letter arrived with a muggle messenger, which was uncommon for them, but not unprecedented. The letter was kind and commanding. Tom made the effort to be solicitous. The missive informed him that Tom's carriage would pick Harry up from Harry's current abode in London and take him to Tom's estate for a brief visit. Everything was already arranged and Harry needed only to comply. Harry always complied where Tom wad concerned. That was the basis of their arrangement. Harry never, ever, got to say "no".

The thrill the letter caused stayed with Harry through the day. He imagined their meeting. How quickly would Tom take him? Would Harry be treated as a guest, fed, entertained, his use delayed? Would he be swept of his feet upon arrival, or... god..., kicked off his feet to the floor, and taken right then and there? Would Tom talk?

It was Harry birthday, or very nearly so, and now Tom had summoned him. Harry knew he would get a treat.

Tom must have planned to let Harry stay a few days and possibly interact with others at the estate. If Tom had wanted a quick tryst, he would have just apparated and used Harry on the spot, as he was sometimes want to do. Just last week Harry awoke to Tom's hands pushing apart his legs and Tom settling between them. Tom had silenced Harry, and Harry couldn't even scream his pleasure and pain. Sometimes Tom would leave right after, sometimes stay for a nap. Either way, on those nights the servants were none the wiser.

A longer stay required an obvious arrival, lest the servants grow curious of how a man could be present without arriving through the door. How could lord Riddle be seen in London when just that day he had been witnessed with his retinue in Blankeshire? Nor could young Harry Potter be supernaturally, suspiciously, present in Blankeshire without the evidence of a trip, a carriage, footmen.

***

The carriage arrived with familiar faces. A most delightful chill went through Harry on seeing Bill and Greg waiting for him at the foot of the stairs, clad in Tom’s restrained grey livery. And if these two were there, Vincent and Oliver must have been there too. These footmen were part of Tom's reformation project. Select young men from the lowest ranks, often men with sullied names, were given a second chance, trained, and became respectable servants for a great man. The men frequently indulged their old vices on Harry. Tom was a genius to hire them to keep Harry occupied. Seeing them now, the young man knew he was in for a treat even before arriving at Tom's.

Greg took Harry’s things to the carriage. Bill helped him up. In the carriage Harry saw what was waiting for him. A thick wooden dildo was somehow attached to the center of the bench. The bench was well padded around it for comfort. Harry appreciated the thought. Sitting down next to the protrusion, Harry drew down the curtains and began to undress. He barely started when there was a knock on the door, immediately followed by Bill. His eager eyes took in Harry's disheveled clothing. Then he slid in and closed the door.

"Let me assist you sir. You aren't to do any of that yourself."

Harry's hands obediently left his half open flies. Bill's calloused hands took over, one familiar hand slipping into the opening to fondle Harry's cock and balls for long seconds before finally moving his trousers down his thighs, to just above his knees. Harry's own hands stayed passively at his sides, resting on the padded bench.

"Don't think they need to go any lower for this," said Bill, looking straight into Harry face, inches away in the cramped space, his breath warming Harry’s skin. "Lift up now, let's get you on the knob, sir. It's already slicked, just waiting for you." Harry obeyed. He always obeyed. As he lifted, his chest and head leaned closer to the servant. Harry let his head rest on Bill’s shoulder, inhaling his scent. Harry kept his head there as Bill's hands spread his cheeks and the dildo pushed into him. Bill's hands rose to Harry's shoulders and _pushed_. With a guttural sound Harry slid down the wooden cock.

He sat upright and very still, breathing through the burn. He could have come right then but he wanted to wait for the carriage to be moving across uneven flagstones, pushing the dildo up into him. Fuck, just the thought of it! Harry looked up at Bill, sitting on the opposite bench, waiting for Harry to get his bearings. "No need to be too careful on the roads, Bill. I'm sure the carriage can take a hard pace."

"Of course, sir. I think we can make good time, too, if we don't mind a few of the rougher roads."

"Wonderful," exhaled Harry.

Bill covered Harry's lap with a warm woolen throw, covering his shameless cock, and left to settle in his place on the perch outside, leaving Harry in the dark space, alone with his sensations. The carriage moved with a start, Harry's hands still lying at his sides.

***

Harry spent the better part of an hour growing accustomed to the feeling of unyielding wood jerking within him, unpredictably pushing into his prostate. They were still in London, slowed down by the heavy traffic of the city. All around him were street noises, the whinnying of horses, constant shouts of coachmen and street hawkers. Surrounded by the mundane he felt like a naughty secret kept in a pretty box, being delivered to its very perverted owner.

He had discovered that the wooden pole was very firmly attached to the bench as it didn't shift in the least. He was anchored to his seat. He couldn't change his position much, though he thought he could shift around its axis to lean his back on the side of the carriage and pull his legs up on the bench. He may try it in the course of the ride. He had time. Tom's manor was two days away.

After another quarter hour of stops and starts in a particularly congested area of London, Harry decided to open the curtains. He wanted to see and be seen. He wanted to feel on the cusp of exposure, with a thick facsimile of a cock battering his insides, while looking respectable out into the world.

It was at the corner of Houndsditch, that Harry came. His own neighbor's carriage was passing him, and Harry leaned forward a bit, the knob sliding out of him an inch or so with the movement. He offered a polite nod in greeting. Serendipitously, the horses spooked. Harry heard someone’s shout of surprise. The carriage moved forward quickly, rocking on the stones. The structure rocked around Harry and he grabbed onto the seat. The cock thrust in and out with such vigor that Harry lost his bearings for a moment as he shook with his climax. "Thanks, Ollie," he whispered. Once he could safely lift his hands he knocked on the roof on the carriage to convey his thanks. He heard Oliver's cheery laugh and a "You're welcome, sir," shouted in return.

Harry settled back more firmly on the now less wildly moving cock and resumed watching the scenery outside.

***

About an hour outside London, Harry began to nod off. Sitting in one position was unexpectedly tiring and one grew accustomed to even the most titillating things. After another hour or so the carriage rocked to a stop on the side of the road, in a thicket of trees. Bill got in, knocking as he opened the door.

"We will be stopping at an inn soon sir, just for tea. You are not allowed out of the carriage for that, I'm afraid. Milord's orders. But I'll bring you some nibbles."

"Thanks, Bill." Harry looked at the manservant with pleading eyes: "Am I allowed to stretch my limbs at all? I'm stiff."

"Of course, sir. But not by the inn, I don't think. I don't think you can walk straight right now, can you sir?" Bill patted his leg. "That’s why I had Ollie stop here. It's a pretty spot and we boys will keep you company." Harry's hole clenched around the dildo just thinking of the "boys" traveling with him.

"Capital, Bill. I'll need your help to get out, please." Harry's trousers and underpants had slipped completely down his legs sometime early in the journey. He could not bend enough to pick them up without risking the dildo slipping out. And he knew he was too weak-kneed to get out of the carriage by himself. His was utterly helpless and wrung out.

Bill leaned in deeper through the open door and gently removed the throw from Harry's lap, exposing him to the open air. Bill then unlaced his shoes, took them off, and removed Harry's socks and trousers, setting them aside on the side of the opposite bench. Harry was now fully exposed from the waist down. "I think it will be easier to lift you off the knob if I get in." He got in, leaving the door open. Greg and Vince were waiting just outside. Vince grinned at Harry and Harry smiled back. Bill sat down opposite Harry and leaned forward to lift the younger man off the cock. Harry felt like a doll being maneuvered by strong hands. The cock was out. His hole felt loose and pleasantly open. He had always loved the sensation of being open. Greg sneaked a hand into the carriage to finger his stretched rim.

"Oi, let the man get out first, Greg," admonished Bill. Greg laughed and pulled his hand back. Harry started laughing. Bill settled him on the side of the bench, and then stepped out. From the outside he took Harry's hands and supported him as Harry half fell half stepped out of the carriage. Greg and Vince readily supported him from the sides.

"Rub poor sir down, will you? And let’s have a short walk after that, carefully." The two men on his sides readily began rubbing Harry's legs and back, helping relieve his aching muscles. It felt divine. Once they we done, Bill retrieved Harry clothing and dressed him. The group slowly walked besides the tree line.

"How have you been doing, lads?" Asked Harry. He hadn't seen them all spring.

"Oh, you know sir, can't complain. Of course the manor is quiet without you right now. But there is work to be done."

They spent some time in mindless conversation letting Harry stretch his limbs. Then Bill turned them back to the carriage. Oliver was waiting by the horses, waiting for them.

"Dibs," he yelled at they neared.

Harry was led to the carriage door and stripped again, from the waist down. He leaned into the door opening, leaving his bottom exposed and waiting. Several hands moved on his back, lower, stretching his hole, playing with his bollocks from below. Then Ollie moved in, slapping his cheeks with a few heavy blows before slapping Harry's arsehole with his cock. He soon pushed in, not going slowly. Harry's asshole was puffy but stretched enough to take it. Harry breath punched out in gasps as Ollie rode him, using him. His pace was fast right of the get go and he growled out, "Been' waiting hours for that, fuck!" He held on to Harry's shoulders and jackhammered his hips in a rapid staccato before coming in Harry’s arse. It was impersonal and quick, but then, Harry wasn't allowed to complain. Harry didn't get to say no and didn't get to decide how his arse was used. How he was used. That's what he wanted and that's what he had, thanks to Tom.

Next it was Bill. Harry knew him by his length and gentle hands. It was an endless slide inside his anus, inch after inch, after inch, after inch,... Bill didn't seem in a hurry. He glided in and out. It was a stark contrast after Ollie's storm of movement. Harry stretched his hands out over his head, and relaxed his body completely to just take and take and take. Bill's big hands moved over his sides, his back, mapping him out and caressing his skin. Harry loved it. Every time Bill pushed in the last couple of inches Harry's guts would tense, and he had to force himself to stay relaxed and open, to take it all in. Everything always fit in, in the end. That thought almost got him off. Harry moaned and Bill's large palm moved to Harry's cock, playing with it, squeezing and stroking. Harry's stomach felt on fire with the sensations and he came imagining being impaled forever on a cock. Bill continued moving in him through Harry's orgasm, going slower but not pausing. By the time Bill finished inside of him, Harry's body had accepted his length and Harry felt like melted butter, languid and soft.

He wasn't finished, of course. Vince came next. He wasn't satisfied with just seeing Harry's arse, he always enjoyed looking at his face. Harry was turned around, his legs settled around Vince's strong hips. Harry smiled up at him and lifted his ass up a bit in welcome. Vince grinned and slid in. By now the movement was smooth and easy, Harry slick and his sphincter utterly loose. Vince didn't seem to mind the looser hole but Harry flexed his ass rhythmically to give the man a good ride.

Vince looked into his eyes and at his mouth, and chest, and cock, drinking in the pale body under him. He felt like a bull rutting a gazelle, and that got him off every time. Harry's green eyes were always so soft with surrender, his form so much weaker than Vince's. Vince put his hands all over the man, enjoying the contrast of his muscled tanned hairy arms and the frail young man beneath him. His hips moved faster and faster, moving the smaller body with him, pushing out moans from that pink mouth. The moans complimented the deep grunts coming out of Vince's throat. Harry's cock was only half hard, having come already, but every bit of his body surged to meet Vince. It was hot. Vince buried himself to the root and came like a bull with a thick load of come landing inside the smaller man under him. He stayed over Harry for long seconds, leaning his arm on Harry's rapidly breathing chest. He could feel the young man's frantically beating heart. Finally he pulled out, carefully, helping Harry's legs find a purchase spread wide open on the sides on the door instead of on Vince's hips.

Harry's eyes looked happy, shining as he looked up and smiled, first at Vince and then at Greg who stepped forward. "I'm afraid I'm a mess, Greg," he laughed.

"Just like you love being, Harry." Greg snorted back. "Look at you," Greg looked down. "Your hole is filthy. Vince and Bill and Ollie all leaking out." Vince moved his fingers over the messy hole. "Push out some more, let's see how much they've put into you."

Harry obeyed, pushing out a rivulet of come. "Fuck, I can feel it dripping out." He strained to push out more.

"Hell, yes, it's dripping out. Lads, look at how much you filled our boy here." Vince and Ollie's hands reached out and joined playing with Harry's hole. At least three fingers were in him, pulling in different directions, holding him open for them to see.

"Let's mess you up some more before we put you to rest, darling." With those words the other hands left his hole and Greg moved in.

Greg was quite girthy, with an impressively wide head, but by this point Harry could take him easily. He slid in and all the way back out, then in; enjoying the feeling on Harry's loose hole spreading apart around the head of his cock. "You like being, bred, don't you Harry?" His large hand stroked Harry's prick in time with his movements.

Harry's head was rolling from side to side on the carpeted floor of the carriage "Love it, Greg, fucking love it." He lifted his hand to start playing with his nipples. "Mess me up more, Greg."

"Sure, baby." Greg spat on him. Harry jolted, his cock leaking precome.

"Fuuuuck, Greg!"

Greg leaned in, detouring to suck hard on a nipple, and then grabbed Harry's face to still it and spit on it. "Ah!" Was all Harry could say. Greg pushed in and out, his pace picking up. His hand still holding Harry's face steady, his thumb slipping into Harry's mouth, pushing it to open wider. Then he spit in the boy's mouth.

"You're a filth covered whore, aren't you, darling?" Harry frantically tried to nod, moaning piteously around the thick finger in his mouth. "Then take your fucking like the whore you are, push back hard, boy, work that arse."

Harry eagerly followed the order, getting another glob of spit on his face as reward. His eyes were closed, lashes and cheeks and lips wet with spittle. He whined like an animal in heat. "Take it boy, take a big load in your arse, god knows how many loads you've taken in it," Greg was slamming into Harry now, punching his hips with force; Harry's arse dutifully lifting to meet his every push. Greg stopped talking and moved faster, reaching his climax, coming for long moments, stilling inside. He slid out and looked over the panting and whining mess of a man under him. "You're a wreck. Your hole doesn't even close properly. Filthy." With that he slapped Harry's puffy hole, hard. "Cum covered slut." Another slap. "A used hole." Slap. "A cum dump." Slap. And a slap. And a slap.

Harry came. A beautiful shuddering, crying, mess.

Greg now touched him softly, soothing this cries. "Good boy. Such a good boy for us. Good Harry." He carded a hand through Harry's hair, cleaned up his face with a kerchief. "There you go, all better, darling."

Harry gradually came down from his high. "God damn it, you all will be the death of me." He smiled tiredly "Please help me back up. Or just to the bench." Harry eyes the soft bench on the side that didn't sport a wooden erection.

"We can do better than that," Bill came into sight carrying a piece of soft cotton. "Let's clean you up. Keep your legs there another moment." Using wet cotton he gently cleaned Harry's loose opening, aching bollocks, and cum covered cock. He moved up, gradually cleaning his sweaty chest, his armpits, his neck, and finally removing the last traces of spit and tears from his face. "Ollie, open the door on the other side and help me move Harry deeper in."

Soon strong hands lifted Harry's shoulders as another pair lifted his buttocks and he was moved deeper in. His legs were then stretched out, still partially out of the carriage, and four hands massaged his sore muscles. Harry drifted, spent and safe.


	2. Chapter 2

A short time later Harry was shaken awake. "Sir, I'm sorry but you may not rest for more than a few minutes off the cock." Harry looked up, confused.

Bill was pointing at the seat with the prominent dildo. The prospect of getting split on it again wasn't daunting, as he had just had larger things up his bum, but neither was it appealing. It would hurt. But Harry never said "no". He didn't get to say "no". That was the point.

He looked at Bill. "Help me."

Working together they managed to get Harry sitting up on the side of the bench. Harry hissed in discomfort at having to sit on his sore arse. Bill took out a squat jar and a feather and applied some salve from the jar on the wood cock. "This is our Lord's personal recipe. You remember, it works wonders." Harry knew it did work wonders, because it was literally magic. He now looked forward to getting on the dildo as his raw arse would heal almost instantly.

Finished with the preparation, Bill sat on the opposite bench and reached around Harry, letting the young man lean on him, while lifting his bum and spreading his cheeks for the dildo. This time he supported Harry underneath to help slow his descent and murmured soothing words into the young man's hair. Finally Harry was impaled again. Bill gave him a few minutes to adjust and got out.

"We will stop by the inn in half an hour. I will bring your food here." He smiled comfortingly at the young man. "We will ride slowly and smoothly now, I believe."

"Yes, that would be best. Slow and smooth. See if they have treacle tarts, will you?"

"Absolutely, sir." And with that Bill left. Harry drew the curtains down.

***

After some time with the healing potion and a nice lunch, Harry felt reinvigorated. Some distance from the inn, Harry was helped out to attend to his needs. Since becoming Tom's lover, Harry's body no longer performed certain functions, since his arse's only job was getting stuffed with cock and sundry other implements, but none of the footmen could know that. So Harry pissed and watched the sky for a bit to stretch for time. He decided that he would try to convince Tom to let him stay for at least the rest of the summer and possibly autumn. London was fun, but London had lost its luster in Tom's absence. With that goal set, he headed back to the waiting Greg.

When they returned to the carriage, Harry faced a surprise. The thick wooden dildo had been replaced with a different one. Harry stared at the newcomer. It was covered in leather. It was also narrower than its predecessor, but notably longer. He estimated that it was at least 3 inches longer than Bill, maybe more. It would reach up to his naval. He licked his lips.

Greg whistled. Harry turned to him, failing to hide the anticipatory darkness in his eyes. "Oh, you're looking forward to this monster, darling."

Harry leaned into Greg, smiling. A warm hand stroked his back. Greg chuckled, "You're a brave little slut, my dear. Braver than is good for you I reckon."

"I'll be fine." Harry could feel the hunger for this cock in his gut. His hole clenched rhythmically, waiting to be stuffed. "Can you get Bill with the salve though? Just to be safe."

Bill had already showed up though. "Already here, sir."

Bill applied a liberal amount. Then he partially undressed Harry, taking the opportunity to examine his battered arsehole. It was still stretched and gaping, but no longer inflamed. Bill then helped Harry up into the carriage. Harry didn't let go of Bill's hand. He had to almost stand in the carriage to properly align his hole to the taller dildo. Finally he positioned himself right and began sliding down, inch by endless inch. It seemed to be less rigid than the previous one. After the first few inches, he felt resistance. He squeezed Bill's hand tight. For long moments he breathed deeply, working to relax his inner muscles. Finally, he was able to slowly slide lower, the huge length finding its place in his guts.

"I'm always amazed when you manage to do something so crazy," Ollie's voice came from the left. Harry opened his eyes and saw that both doors were open, Tom's footmen standing on both sides. They had watched him take in the dildo.

"Yes, Harry's an accomplished slut, aren't you, baby?" That was Greg.

Ready to experience a ride with this new toy inside him, Harry covered his lap with the throw that had been laying next to him. "Let's get on the road. It's evening soon, and we need to make some progress."

The men moved away. "Bill? I need you for a moment."

"Yes, Harry?"

"Bill, am I to sleep here at night? Just so I know." Harry would, if told to, but he hoped he wouldn't have to.

"No, no. We already have rooms waiting at the Hog's Head. Don't worry sir."

"That's good to hear, thank you. And supper?"

"I'll bring you some food here in a couple of hours."

"I see. Alright. Thanks for taking care of me Bill."

"It's my pleasure, sir." And with that Bill left Harry alone in the carriage.

***

Riding with a length of stiff leather deep in your intestines was different. His prostate wasn't stimulated, since the length went far past that spot. However, the deep sense of violation made up for that. He felt wounded, pierced, invaded. He shivered with the wrongness of it. His hole occasionally tried to push against the intrusion, but having it that deep inside made any such effort pointless. The longer Harry sat there, feeling the length reaching high into him, the more drunk he felt. He could only think about the dildo. He could only feel the dildo. He frequently pressed a hand against his abdomen trying to feel it from outside. He thought he could feel it, just barely. Sucking in his breath shifted things around the dildo. Deliberately pushing out his stomach made it move a bit. The gentle rocking of the carriage didn't cause any stimulation to his prostate but he constant shifting kept him aware of something moving inside of his body. His hole was hypersensitive as well, clenching and unclenching around the leather base.

Engrossed in his sensations, Harry barely noticed the passing of time and was therefore surprised when the carriage stopped and Bill brought him supper. They stopped for a quarter hour so everyone could eat. Then the ride resumed.

***

When they arrived at the Hog's Head, Bill got into the carriage with Harry, closing the door. He directed Harry to lift up a bit, and then fiddled with something underneath the young man. Harry felt a few jerks on the length inside of him, and then suddenly he was unmoored.

"I've detached it from the bench. Now let's get you dressed." Bill did all the work as Harry remembered he wasn't to do any dressing or undressing on his own. Every movement made him moan quietly and close his eyes.

"I've informed the innkeeper that you are mildly unwell. Vincent will carry you from the carriage to your room. I will follow to prepare you for sleep." Harry nodded, meekly moving his legs into the garments Bill held out.

Bill opened the door, and helped Harry move into Vince's waiting arms. It wasn't graceful but it was done. Harry let several moans escape since he was already assumed ill, and it was such a sick delight to wantonly moan from a toy invading his backside whilst in public. Looking at Vince, Harry saw that he was enjoying the sounds and the knowledge of their source as well.

As he was carried up the stairs Harry appreciated Vince's burly strength. He craved more touches after being sexually tortured in isolation for hours. Once in his room, Vince lay him on the bed. Harry spread his legs in blatant invitation. The door opened just as Vince stepped forward to pounce.

Since anyone who wanted Harry, could have Harry anytime, Bill simply said, "Vince, get Harry ready for bed once you're done." He turned to Harry, "Good night, sir."

By then Vince was laying on top of Harry, and holding a hand around his throat, making it hard to draw a breath. So Harry only waved in reply.

Vince was usually a man of few words. And he liked Harry's non verbal noises. Like mewls, moans, and desperate gasps. Right then Harry was all about the gasps. Vince leaned in, putting a lot of pressure on the hand around Harry's throat. His mouth was often on Harry's, stealing his breath further. One of his thick thighs was pushed between Harry's legs, rhythmically pressing against Harry's cock. And, oh, his weight on Harry's stomach underlined the sensation of the long column invading his body. Unable to breathe, unable to think, drowning in sensations and desperation, Harry came right in his pants, and blacked out.

When he came to a few seconds later, he looked down to see his pants open and Vince licking up his come off his sticky cock. Once saw Harry was aware, he removed the trousers completely and grabbed the base of Harry's monstrous dildo. "Slow or fast?"

"Slow," Harry asked, lying back. For some reason he felt like putting his arms up above his head, as if restrained. So he did. Vince moved up over him, looking at his face, one arm holding himself up, the other just holding on to the base of the dildo. Then he started to pull. Harry was sure his face contorted in funny ways, but it hardly mattered to him. He was glad Vince was there to enjoy the expressions. Vince pulled and pulled, shifting the grip of his hand a couple of times to be able to pull it all out. The sensations inside Harry as the rod emptied out of him were indescribable... moving down and down through his lower half. When the toy was half way out of him, he already wanted it back. Oh, who was he lying to, he needed it back after the first inch left him. He watched Vince, who was devouring him with ravenous eyes. He heard his own low whine as he was cored, emptied out. He may have cried at the loss. Finally they toy left him completely. He was crushed.

A moment of heartbreak later, thick slippery fingers pushed into him. Vince stretched him with three fingers, testing his give. A fourth soon joined. If Harry was right, he was about to.... "God yes please! Please!" Harry was pushing onto the fingers, opening up, taking them in to the knuckles. Vince added a thumb. Pushed them all in. "God yes, Vince, fuck!" The hand was stuck at the knuckles, unable to move farther but not for long. Vince was a magician with his hands, he'd get his whole fist into Harry eventually. He twisted his arm, pushed and receded, twisted and turned. Harry writhed on the bed; so much pressure battering his hole, so much! Vince shook his wrist while his fingers were buried inside, creating vibrations at Harry's core. Harry was shameless and begging. "Oh Vince, so good, don't stop, ngh, oh please!"

Vince started pistoning his fingers in and out of Harry, like the head of an oversized spear. Again and again and again, in a fast assault. Harry wailed, but still, it wasn't enough, he needed the full fist.

He was given an unwanted respite. Vince slowed down, retreated, returned to just playing with Harry's rim, two thumbs pulling him open. A light caress over the hole, two fingers reaching in to push on his prostate and make him moan.

But soon, four fingers were spreading him open again. And two more pushed in from the other hand, pulling him wide open. Than Vince’s did that things again, making Harry feel vibrations against his rim and walls, shaking him apart. A spear again, trying to get in, pushing to get in past the knuckles. Immovable, irresistible, ramming its way in. It shoved through, holding Harry open on the widest part of Vince's huge hand for endless seconds, and then slowly sliding deeper in. And Harry felt so full! Vince shifted his hand incrementally, not trying to take it out, just pulling on Harry's muscles, watching them stretch tightly around his wrist. Harry was babbling, shaking, writhing on his hand. Vince played for a very long time, moving and twisting his fist inside Harry's anus, stretching his inner walls. When he was satisfied he had left an indent inside Harry, he carefully pulled out, hearing a hoarse "No!" in response.

"Shhh, Harry. Time for you to sleep. Don't worry, won't leave you empty." Vince sat back on his heels, dragged Harry's body closer, and positioned his cock right at Harry's hole. His left hand held the hole open, and he jerked his cock several times, aiming right for the dark open center. His come landed inside, glistening just in sight. Finished, he gently moved Harry's hips off his thighs and down on the bed. "There you go, Harry." Harry was looking at him, or at least in his direction with hazy unfocused eyes. He looked delirious or drugged, like a debauched fantasy instead of a real man.

Remembering that before leaving he had to plug Harry back up (Milord's orders that Harry not be left without "something shoved up there.") He grabbed the unreasonably long column of leather and slicked it up. It slid right it without much fuss, only needing a few gentle pushes to get in deep. But the moment Vince took his hand away, the dildo started to push out. Looking at the hole, Vince realized that Harry's broken in bottom wouldn't be able to hold the dildo inside. It wasn't even trying to clench, really. So Vince pushed a pillow between Harry's legs and went to find Bill to have him figure something out.

Bill came in and started out by airing he room and wiping Harry clean. Vince had quite liked the stench of their sex and sweat, but he didn't object. Let Harry be fresh and comfortable. Then Bill resolved the problem by putting Harry in his underclothes and binding his thighs shut with a long stretch of rope over the garment. Harry watched them with amused eyes as they maneuvered and bound his body. "Good thinking. Nigh'," he mumbled as they finished and promptly fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The party was late to leave the inn because the group of men decided to let Harry, exhausted from the previous day's trials, rest until almost noon.

Once awake, Harry was untied, examined, washed, watered and fed. Once the dildo was covered in a new dose of the healing salve and put back in, Harry was dressed and carried into the carriage. Bill attached the base on the dildo to the bench, thereby attaching Harry to the same. They took off at a fast pace, to Harry's audible joy.

A short time later, they stopped at a quiet clearing to let Harry take a walk and refresh himself. Upon return, Harry was met with a new device attached to the seat. It was the color of a ruby and reminiscent of a large egg in shape. It was standing with its narrowest side pointing up. It also had large rounded horizontal ridges covering its length from base to tip. At its widest point it must have been almost twice as wide a Vince's clenched fist. It was as tall as a man’s forearm.

It wasn't feasible to get his hole to swallow that. Well, he knew it eventually would, it would take anything Tom decided should be in it, and there were always healing spells he could get once they arrived, or even some he could try to apply himself... but it wasn't going to be easy to do. However, there was one upside he saw. He could rebel. Tom's boys would have no choice but to force him. Because Harry didn't get to say "no". That was the point. They would have to hold him down. Force him even more open. Physically impale him on the thing. So many hands.... Yes, he was definitely saying:

"No." Harry turned to Bill. "You must see this is impossible. I... I can't."

Bill looked alarmed and pitying at the same time. He has always been the most solicitous of Harry's welfare and comfort, but he knew that Harry didn't get to say "no". Harry had to take in whatever he was told, however he was told. "Sir, Harry, we cannot..." He stopped, suspicion dawning in his eyes, "Sir. Safeword?"

Harry just looked him in the eyes. His silence was the loudest thing in the clearing. Then he bolted to the side. His shaky legs weren't going to do any good in a pursuit, but who cared? His boys were kind enough to let him get way a few paces (Ollie laughing, that shit), before Greg grabbed him around the stomach and harshly shoved him to the ground, knocking he breath out of Harry's lungs. "Sorry, darling, really I am, but you just don't get to refuse. You'll take it baby, we'll help."

Bill came to them, sitting down on the ground next to Harry. His hand carded through Harry's hair, petting like one might comfort a scared animal. Harry whined piteously. "Sir, no one really has any choice here. We will help you get through this, but it is inevitable."

Harry was struggling to get off the ground, or to crawl aside but Greg held him easily. He then bit Greg's arm to get away. It didn't help. Greg didn't even get angry. Just put a hand on his throat and squeezed. Bill said, "I think we will get on better if we just begin."

Black stars were dancing in Harry's vision. He couldn't breathe. His body thrashed. "You can be conscious from the middle, baby." And Harry's world went dark.

***

When the world returned it was a mix or sensations. He was on his back. There was a breeze and a faint smell of grass and horses. His whole body was naked. There were squelching noises.

Oh, those were coming from his arse.

He opened his eyes to see that he was on the floor of the carriage again, much like yesterday, with his legs bent back and his arse hanging out. He tried moving but he was trussed up. Vince was standing between his legs, working him open. He must have been doing it for bit now, to make Harry loose enough to squelch. Not that he had been tight before.

Bill was sitting on the floor with him, holding Harry's head in his lap. "Harry, you're doing well. Everything is fine. We have time, so Vincent is going to help you open up. He's working with Milord's salve so you will not be harmed." Harry cried out wordlessly, hiding his face in Bill's stomach. "There, there, sir. That's it, just ride it out."

Greg meanwhile was doing his part to comfort Harry. "Look at you baby, Vince is working you so fine." Harry had to agree, Vince's hand was gliding in and out of him, meeting only marginal resistance. Harry felt so open, like he would never close up again. "Once Vince is done, I think me and him are gonna double team you. Your whore cunt isn't tight enough anymore for one man to get a use out of you, but two of us might get some friction going. And then you’ll be ready for Daisy," he gestured at the huge _thing_ still sitting proud on top of the seat above Harry.

Harry whined in despair, and tried to move his hips away from them, but Greg just reached over Vince and hit Harry’s bollocks in retaliation. Harry screamed and thrashed more, but no one was moved. Bill held his shoulders down. "Sir! You may not struggle. We are doing this to help you. I think you should apologize to Vincent and Gregory."

Harry definitely wasn't doing that. Then Bill reached down and slapped his cock and bollocks in one blow. "Do apologize, sir." Another slap. Harry thrashed but his arms were bound to his chest. He tried to kick out with his legs, but those were tied to the door and bench. Bill and Greg were alternating punishing blows to his genitals. Harry was screaming "I don't want this! No!" The blows continued. Someone now had his balls in a vise, squeezing their base and hitting the top. Harry almost blacked out from the agony. His come sprayed out over his stomach. The blows continued. Harry was gasping and sobbing, snot covering his face, when Vince intervened. "This helped loosen him. Let me work."

The heavy slaps stopped. Bill's voice: "Do you apologize, Sir?" Harry cried out a "Sorry!" And then Bill's burning hand was on his face, wiping away his tears. "There, you're alright now, sir."

Harry focused on Vince, whose elbow was moving in and out of his field of vision, his face rapt. Greg whispered, "Darling, look at how Vince is filling your guts. Look at him moving your stomach from the inside." Harry looked down. Every time Vince pushed in, Harry's lower body bulged slightly. It was like someone was striking him from the inside. It was sooo good. Harry moaned with the movements.

Vince looked up, asking "Ready for more?" His right arm was stuck in Harry's hole. Now more fingers pushed in, sliding in beside his wide wrist. His right hand pulled out, just pulling out the knuckles, and then pushing back in with the left hand joining in at the same time, pushing through without as much resistance as Harry would expect. He wasn't in agony, just in delirium. Then the right hand pulled out as the left pushed in deeper. Then the right pushed back in, both hands inside him filling him to the brim again. The hands moved in and out, stretching him wide and then wider, crowding his insides together, then just with one. At no point was Harry's hole left without a hand deep in it. Bill was playing with Harry's nipples, stroking his heaving stomach and chest, but Harry could barely notice the touch. His whole being focused on his hole.

After long minutes, Harry was in a trance. He quieted and his breathing became steady. He drifted on the sensations. But then the sensations changed again. Vince removed his hands completely, leaving Harry gaping and unable to close. He moved his head up, confused.

Greg was moving to stand in front of him. "Want to try something, baby. You don't mind, do you? You never do."

Harry felt Greg’s palm sliding up and down over his wide open hole. Then Greg’s hand pushed in. And then... was that his dick? Harry groaned as Greg began to jerk himself off with his hand, _inside_ Harry, spewing filth all the while. "It's like wearing an oversized mitten, baby. Too loose but nice and warm. Look at you take my whole hand and dick in. Can't really fuck you anymore, with your slut cunt broken open. Useless really. You can just be a come bucket for men. We'll call you when we don't want to clean up after ourselves, we'll just spill in that huge bunghole of yours. Maybe use you for piss as well." Harry hasn’t tried that yet but it sounded obscene. Unnatural. Good.

Greg was moving his hand faster and faster, moving Harry's lower body with it. After some time he must have finally come because he moved away and Vince's bulk filled the space between Harry's splayed legs. He didn't waste time shoving his hands in, together, and pulling them apart, trying to stretch Harry even wider than just two hands could. Harry didn't think that was even possible, but his arse took it somehow.

Harry surrendered and breathed through the constant burn. He felt Vince's fingers playing with his rim, sliding the overly loose edge between his fingers. Harry imagined his rim forming lips like those on a pussy. Tom had once stretched him again and again for weeks, leaving his rectum looking like a meaty cunt. Harry had spent quite a bit of time twisted in front of a mirror enchanted with the look. Maybe Tom's boys got him to stretch close to that. That would be great.

His breath was suddenly knocked out of him when Vince literally punched his arsehole with his whole fist. He didn't push in with his fingers pointed. He just punched his ass! And it went in! Harry keened as the man between his legs continued punching him again and again with no respite between blows. His body shook and jerked, taking the beating. Obscene sounds were coming from his hole, air being violently forced in and then loudly out. It was horrid and mortifying. He couldn't get enough.

Vince let him enjoy the beating for endless minutes before he stopped and declared Harry ready. Bill took over. He got up, gently moving Harry's head from his lap to the carpeted floor. Then he fiddled with the enormous monster on the bench, detaching it and handing its heavy weight over to Vince, then exiting the carriage to walk to Harry’s exposed arse. Harry was struggling ineffectually in his bindings. "No!"

His protests went unheeded. "No! Bill, you can't fit it in! I'll tear apart. It's too big, Bill!" His thrashing body shook the carriage but he couldn't move his lower half away from the door. "No, Vince, you can see it won’t fit!" Fighting ineffectually he worked himself into a sobbing fit, tears staining his red face. "Please no! Listen to me!"

Bill was trying to soothe him with a hand on his leg, smoothing over the shaking flesh, but Harry was inconsolable. Giving up on quieting the young man, Bill took the large object to Harry's anus. He started pushing in. Despite Harry's struggles, he was still wide open. But not open enough.

"Harry! You need to relax. Or we _will_ damage you." Harry kept thrashing. Bill commanded, "Greg, go to him, get him under control."

Greg climbed into the carriage next to the bound man's head. He bent close to Harry’s ear and put a hand over his nose and mouth. He whispered, "Stop fighting bitch. You're fucked either way. Stop whining like a fucking child." As he spoke his hand didn't move from Harry's face, smothering him. "You push down on the dildo or I beat you blue. You know Milord won't mind." He pushed with his hand, grinding against Harry's nose and lips.

Harry's struggles were weakening because he just couldn’t breathe. He couldn't see anything, Greg's head and chest filling his world. Everything has going out of focus. He didn't want to lose consciousness! Barely managing, he nodded under Greg's hand. He would cooperate.

As soon as he nodded, Greg removed his hand. Tsking, he wiped it on Harry's chest. "You're covered in snot," he said, disgusted.

Bill asked, "You're ready, Harry?"

Harry looked wearily at Greg and weakly mewled a "Yes". He was resigned.

"Good." And Bill _pushed_. He pushed for what felt like forever. Harry felt the thing as one huge entity, not able to sense the individual ridges. It was so huge he was sure he tore inside. He must have. There was no space inside of him for this monstrosity. It kept moving in, and Harry thought it was pushing aside his organs from the inside to make space for itself. He didn't know if there was any space left inside his body for himself. Greg was right, a crazy part of Harry decided, it deserved to have a name.

On the widest part, his hole couldn't deal. There was a tearing pain; they must have ripped his sphincter. No one stopped. Daisy pushed through to the end.

The ordeal over, some ointment was applied to his tortured hole and he was untied. "I think I tore," he told Bill, while Bill cleaned his messy face.

"A bit, sir. But you know that doesn't stop things. You'll feel better soon." Bill's hand was gentle in Harry's hair. Harry nuzzled it. "We need to get you on the seat."

Bill had Greg and Vince lift Harry, still on his back, onto the seat. Bill then sat down on the opposite side and began maneuvering Harry so his arse would be in the center of the seat and his legs on the floor. The man went slowly, trying not to jostle Harry and his bloated-looking belly. Finally it was done and he bent to reattach the end of the dildo sticking out of Harry, to the bench. Harry may have let out a few whines in the process, his hands flying to hold onto his stomach, but that mattered little.

When the task was completed, Bill didn't leave. Instead he used the previously discarded ropes to tie Harry's hands to the sides of the seat, leaving some slack for comfort. Harry was going to say that the ropes were utterly superfluous since Harry would never be able to get off the thing inside him, but Bill couldn't have not known that. And anyway, it wasn't Harry's place to object.

Satisfied with his work, Bill leaned back into his own seat. "I'll be staying with you until we arrive at the manor."

"Thank you."

Bill knocked on the roof and yelled “Oliver, let’s get moving.” They started moving. Bill's eyes devoured Harry's naked form, eyeing the bright red spots from his earlier slaps, the blotchy skin stretched over a large protrusion in his lower half, the pretty cock and vulnerable bollocks, the watery green eyes.

"You look good, sir."

Harry smiled weakly back.

 


	4. Chapter 4

They arrived at the manor house an hour later. Harry felt faint and woozy. He suspected there was something wrong. He felt hands jostling him, moving his arms, then his hips were being lifted. A heavy pulling resistance from inside his hole made itself known. Fingers moved beneath him and he was unmoored. Bill's face was very close and then a warm blanket wrapped around him.

He was carried out of the carriage, and soon he saw the familiar walls of Tom's house. He was in Vince's hands again, his middle heavy, Daisy adding to his weight. Someone was talking of sending for a doctor. Someone else rejecting the idea.

He was put down in a bed in his usual guestroom. Then he was left alone. Lying on his back with Daisy inside him was difficult. He tried to turn on his side but the blanket cocoon and his weakness made it impossible. He settled for bending his knees to make it a little more bearable.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Tom walked in. He was as handsome and collected as always. Tom sat by his body, unwrapping the blankets and looking at Harry's distended stomach. His warm hand was heavy and proprietary on the swollen belly. His fingers dug in, mapping the shape of the toy through Harry's flesh. 

"Beautiful. A toy within a toy." A hand petted his hole, "Did they manage to get it in without damaging you?"

Harry tried to answer but Tom fired a spell at him, and Harry found he couldn't say the words.

"Dolls don't talk." A gentle hand smoothed his hair. A few more colored spells went around and through him. "Ah, you are injured. I'm disappointed you couldn't take it. You'll be interested to know you have internal bleeding. You must be feeling weak by now."

Tom's hand returned to playing with Harry's stomach. It moved like he owned Harry.

"I would need to remove the toy to properly heal you. I've not played with it yet, so you will wait." Fingers opened his mouth and a foul tasting liquid was poured it. Harry swallowed.

"You will be fine for a while. It's a blood replenishing potion."

A shimmer of a spell and Tom was naked. He forced Harry's legs down, pushing his thighs together. A wet feeling spread at the juncture of his legs and he lifted his head to check, fearing he fouled himself. He couldn't see past the little bump. Tom didn't comment. Then the older man climbed on top of him, covering Harry's body with his own, letting his whole weight fall on Harry. Tom's stomach pressed hard on Harry's. It was terribly uncomfortable. Tom's cock was in the seam of Harry's legs and then Tom's hand pushed it further between Harry's thighs. Then both hands settled in Harry's hair and the older man started to undulate over Harry, fucking his slick thighs while pressing on his stomach again and again. Forcing guttural pained moans out of Harry.

"Do you feel how it's pushing around inside you? On your spine? Of course you do, it's moving through your whole lower body. I can feel it through you. So beautiful, stuffed full." Vicious lips settled on Harry's and a mouth devoured his moans. Then Tom lifted his head and confessed, harsh breaths and harsh words, "Sometimes I wish I could open you and play with your insides." A breath stealing kiss and then lips descending to Harry's ear, "I will, someday. If you're good." Still unable to speak words, Harry whined like an animal. He wanted to promise to be good. So good. Again and again he tried to meet the thrusts and make it better for Tom. But he was still too weak. Finally he gave up on any autonomous movement and went completely limp.

The hands in Harry's hair pulled tighter with each push, making his neck bend back. He was covered, controlled, used. Happy. Tom came with a final painful push, pressing hard on the toy in Harry's guts. Harry took it.

Finally the man relaxed and settled his weight like a blanket on top of Harry. The pressure was still there but it was more diffused. Tom kissed his ear and neck, one hand still in his hair, but gentle now. "Lovely fuck doll."

He rolled off Harry and examined him critically. "Let's check on the damage." Lights surrounded Harry. "Oh, sweet, you're in a terrible shape, it seems." Tom bent and his smiling lips gave Harry a kiss. "I've caused more injuries." A kiss landed on the tip of his nose. "I'm no healer, but I don't think you will survive past the evening if left untreated."

Tom waved his hand. An hourglass appeared in the air. "I'm going to sleep now. When I wake up, I'll see to you." Tom settled into the bed, relaxed. Harry looked at the hourglass, wondering how much time it was meant to measure. Then he settled in to sleep himself.

 

***

 

Harry woke up to an Ennervate. His head swam. Tom was straddling him, fully dressed, a slight curve to his lips. Everything around him seemed blurred. "Drink." Another potion was at Harry's lips. He drank. "Good doll."

Tom got off the bed, patting Harry's cheek. "Bill called a physician for you. You remember Dr. Wilkins. He fucked you last Easter." Harry didn't remember the man, but it mattered little to him. "I plan to let him examine you. I want him to see how far your body can be stretched. You will be the talk of the neighbourhood, among those in the know. Do try to look more lively, we don't need to needlessly worry the good doctor."

 

***

The doctor was suitably impressed. He was also visibly concerned. Tom made sure to get rid of him before he could fully comprehend Harry's state. When they were alone Tom settled on the bed, the tips of his elegant fingers playing with Harry's hole and the base of the toy.

"I do not want to take it out yet. I had more plans for it. Some charms are waiting to be tested as we speak. But since you are more fragile than I had hoped, it will need to come out. We will try again in the future, I promise."

At a word from Tom the pressure filling Harry's guts eased. The terrible width started to shrink. It was a very strange sensation. Finally Harry barely felt it. Tom pulled it out and lay it on the bedsheets. Harry saw that it was bloody, marring the sheets. Tom's hand was also bloody. It traced the blood over Harry's chest, then moved to paint his mouth red. Harry licked his lips. Tom's mouth immidiately attacked his in a deep kiss. "Perfect toy."

A barrage of lights and sensations later, Harry was healed. Another blood replenisher and a pepper up, and he was ready for anything Tom might come up with.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Harry became Tom's.

Tom had found Harry in a gentlemen’s club. The patrons of this particular club presumed themselves to be libertines, convinced they were following in the steps of Marquis de Sade. Yet they were so cautious of their place in society that they never approached the heights the Marquis had reached. While trite, the members did have useful connections and being involved in their pastime provided opportunities. So Tom maintained a membership and dutifully attended some of the more inventive events.

The evening he met Harry Tom was already occupied with the elder Viscount Brook, kindly receiving a sloppy cock-suck. Upon completing that rendezvous, the Earl indulged in a bit of malicious gossip about a newly inducted member who seemed go have no limits yet also showed no passion for the act. “A dead fish” was the consensus. The man was quite young and not unattractive, yet even at that moment the room he was in didn’t have a cue of waiting suitors.

To Tom, the most pertinent detail was that the young man was the nephew of Earl Whitwell, who not only had no other heirs but also doted on the young man.

Within the hour Tom found himself in the bedroom with the new addition to the club.

Potter lay naked on top of the sheets, his young, fit body stretched on his front with his legs splayed wide. His head was turned away from the door. He didn’t move a muscle when Tom came in. Not one to be deterred, Tom ran a hand down the soft pale form and reached down to play with the vulnerable balls, exposed so invitingly. They were wet from the mess leaking from the young man’s pink hole. The man had found some partners willing to bed him tonight. Despite the caress, the young man didn’t stir. No words were spoken, no sound of encouragement was made, the slim ass did not lift, the head didn’t turn. “Dead fish” indeed.

Tom had cracked harder nuts in his life, and he climbed on the bed laying over the prostrate figure. He stretched his arms over the other man’s, lay his head check to cheek with him, and whispered, “Beg me.” People often liked to play that game and Tom could accommodate.

Obligingly, the young man uttered a breathy but somehow perfunctory “Please”.

“Please what?”

So quiet it was difficult to hear, the man answered “Whatever you want. Anything.”

Tom frowned. The tone had been so utterly passive it verged on disinterested.

“Turn around.” As Tom lifted up to allow it, Potter obeyed. Tom held the man’s jaw in his hand and forced him to look into Tom’s eyes. Then he encountered a barrier. Tissue thin, but its very existence significant. Potter was a wizard.

Looking at the young man’s face Tom noted that his attempted invasion of the boy’s mind only merited a slight widening of Potter’s eyes. No protests. “Interesting.”

“I suspect you want something you are not getting. Clearly you’ve had no luck communicating your desires. Let me in, and I will see if I can oblige.”

Potter just kept staring. A suspicion on the nature of the man’s need began to dawn in Tom’s mind. “If you do not protest now, I will enter.”

Nothing. Not even the basic and most efficient protestation of closed eyes. Tom plunged into Potter’s mind, tearing through the flimsy barrier.

Everything was there, laid out in pictures rather than words. A doll. A living, breathing, beautiful doll. Used in a myriad of ways by different men. The doll’s face peaceful, or possibly just empty. Then came the memories of unfulfilling encounters, the palpable longing living in Potter, almost always left unsatisfied. Solicitous lovers, demanding tops, fleeting dalliances. Almost without fail participation, words, decisions, performance, were required. Hot bodies that tried too hard to get Potter to react and thus left him unfulfilled. Realizing that asking Potter questions would be demanding participation, Tom lingered in the mind, gathering further impressions. The only encounters that had satisfied Harry had been with sloshed strangers near the docks. But that was rare, quick, and frowned upon. Unsustainable in the long term. There was a desire for something more lasting. How very convenient. And yes, so far, the boy had found no limits to how far he was willing to go. Nothing his imagination or his lovers had come up with gave him pause. After several more edifying moments Tom pulled out of the man’s mind.

“Wish granted.” Tom pulled out his wand and cast Petrificus. The body beneath him went rigid, eyes still open and staring at Tom. Tom spared a spell to undress himself and sat back to look at his new property. The young man must have been fresh out of school, probably in his very late teens. His body was the body of a gentleman: well-shaped, thin, soft, porcelain pale. Inviting in its frailty. His dark hair belonged on the head of a ruffian, messy with either natural inclination of the events of the evening. His bone structure was fine, if a little sharp. Thin expressive lips, vivid green eyes, a flush on his cheeks. Tom’s doll was beautiful.

Tom let his hands roam the body, playing with limbs, squeezing and examining. He caressed the doll’s chest, his armpits, his waist, the thin skin covering his hip bones near the juncture of his legs. The nest of hair at the man’s groin was soft but ultimately displeasing. With a spell, Tom shaved the area smooth. Then Tom lifted the doll’s half hard cock, testing it heft, thumbing the head, squeezed the balls in his hand. He didn’t bother looking at the man’s face to see his reactions. Any reactions were immaterial.

Tom wrenched the doll’s legs apart, bending them to allow easy access to his hole. He then caressed the lovely legs, slim, adorned with a small amount of silky dark hair, with pink soles and delicate ankles. Tom’s fingers finally breached the hole of his doll. It was well stretched and filthy with men’s spendings. Knowing that filth was a feature his doll enjoyed, he didn’t banish the muck. It would work as a lubricant instead. He aligned his cock with the hole and pushed in. He set a comfortable pace, not bothering to angle his hips in any particular way. No one cared if a fuck doll’s prostate was stimulated. Instead he fucked into the hole with full disregard for his partner, grabbing onto hips and pounding the opening that existed only to service him. He came in short order, filling the doll with more ejaculate. He stretched over the doll, relaxing on top of the young man. An unfulfilled erection pushed against his stomach, but Tom ignored it.

After a few moments he got up, magically dressed himself and looked back at the still-petrified man on the bed. Tom pushed the man’s rigid legs together, pushing his legs close to the chest. He pulled the man’s arms around the legs and with a spell had him bound with a length of silk. Glancing at the face Tom noticed that the doll’s eyes had begun to tear up from being open for so long. Tom mercifully pushed the lids closed and with another spell had a full mask cover the doll’s face.

A bell called the club valet and soon two strong men were carrying Potter out into the main dining room.

“Look who has decided to join us gentlemen,” Tom announced walking in behind the valets and their cargo. “I propose we make a proper use of this obliging degenerate.”

With that, Tom gestured for the valets to lower his doll to lie on the dining table. Tom brought over an inkwell and quill from a nearby chest. “Each load he receives will be marked unto his skin. I propose we can reach 20 in the next 3 hours.”

***

Later, Tom took his doll to recover in a private bedroom in the club. After the valets lay the ink-covered teen on the bed, Tom finally ended the spells. Harry’s body sprawled listlessly on the sheets, his revealed face soft, and his stomach covered in cum. He began to sob.

Tom sat and comforted the boy, holding him close and stroking his hair.

“Thank you, thank you thank you thank you, …” The boy whispered into Tom’s neck.

“You’re welcome.”

***

They worked out an arrangement. Tom saw himself in full possession of the young man, and promised to provide him with ample opportunity to be carelessly used. All sexual encounters would be at Tom’s discretion, under his orders. Harry could participate actively or be completely passive, but he would be used regardless. Harry gave up any and all rights to autonomy, and he never got to say no. Just as he wanted.

~ The End ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have enjoyed this little story. Let me know what you think.


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